That's My Story
by Arlene
Summary: Fluff. Superman must talk his way out of a dangerous situation


Disclaimer: DC owns the characters. Not mine, never will be. No money is being made from this piece of fiction.

That's My Story

By Arlene

Superman flew to the balcony, sliding back the glass door as silently as possible. This infiltration required the utmost stealth, else all would be lost. As soon as the opening was wide enough for his body, he floated through, making sure nothing would catch on his cape. Success!

Just as he began to relax, his hearing picked up a noise seconds before the lights came on. He cursed to himself. It had been a trap all along. It figured; the whole thing had been too easy. He dropped the rest of the way to the floor and whirled around, putting on a brave front to belie his apprehension. Time to deal with the situation head on.

"Hi, honey," he smiled sheepishly. 

"Don't you dare 'Hi, honey,' me, Clark Jerome Kent!" The hero winced. The use of his full name meant he was in serious trouble. "Do you have any idea what time it is?!" 

"Uh…" Superman merely stared at his wife. Dressed in a fuzzy pink bathrobe without makeup, hair wound around curlers, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Even when she was mad. Especially when she was mad. "Um…"

She marched up to one of the most powerful beings on Earth and pushed her husband's chin up, causing his mouth to close with an audible snap. "I can't wait to hear this." As he was about to respond, she cut in, "And don't give me that 'You're beautiful when you're angry' line. It worked last time only because I was too tired to think straight."

"Yes, dear," the Man of Tomorrow mumbled.

"You better be in bed by the time I get there."

"Yes, Lois."

By the time Lois re-entered the bedroom, Clark Kent was waiting in their king-sized bed, having turned down her side earlier. He'd even fluffed her pillow, hoping the small gesture would earn him a bit of forgiveness. As Lois climbed into bed, she put the pillow against the headboard and leaned back against it, squishing the extra air out. She crossed her arms. "Well?"

He hated lying to Lois, especially since he knew he was a terrible liar. Now, if he could learn to lie better…

"Well, Batman and I were on patrol, and--"

"His turf is Gotham, right? If he's as territorial as you keep telling me, why would he let you help?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Clark heard a balloon pop. Strike one.

"Try again, Flyboy."

"Well, see, there was an out-of-country situation--"

"CNN." She glared.

"--out-in-space situation…"

She looked ready to bite his head off. And not in a kinky way either.

The jig was up. He blew out a breath.

"Okay, look, the meeting let out, and the guys went to Warriors. I finished patrol early, and when I flew by, they were still there. Lantern spotted me and, well, y'know, one thing led to another, and then we started telling old Green Arrow stories, which led to roasting Ollie, and let me tell you, the guy might've been dead, but he still knows how to party--"

"Breathe, honey." Lois knew he didn't need to, but she needed a break to absorb everything.

Clark obeyed out of habit. "--then Arsenal came in, and when Ollie and Roy get together, and beer's involved, well, you just gotta sit back and enjoy the show. 'Course I just stuck to a soda. Anyway, somebody whipped out a lampshade from somewhere, and it was almost like Flash's bachelor party all over again. So, when things started to wind down, I checked the time and, well…" His hands fluttered in a there-you-go gesture. He checked to see if it was safe. Not quite. "Uh, I think Gardner got it on tape." Almost there. "He owes me, so maybe I can talk him into giving me a copy...?"

Lois smiled sweetly and patted his cheek. "There now, was that so hard?" He sighed in relief. "And of course, you *will* get a copy?" He nodded. "Good little hayseed. Just call me next time, Clark. I worry, you know." She adjusted her pillow and lay down. 

He leaned down to kiss her cheek. "I know. 'Msorry, babe. I'll call next time." He settled down and spooned against her back.

"Imagine that," she murmured. "My hubby acts like a regular guy."

"I heard that."

"You were supposed to," she shot back.

"I can act like a regular guy in other ways." He stroked her stomach suggestively.

She slapped his hand. "You'd better *not* be a regular guy in that department. Go to sleep, Clark."

"Yes, dear."

End


End file.
